They Care
by Strawberry4evr
Summary: AH/AU Jasper doesn't think there is anything left for him, so one day he decides to end it. But just before he does, a stranger will help him, a man who has a completely different past, but still tries to understand, and just because he cares. Not Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: Mentions of abuse, neglect and suicide. I don't own Twilight. This isn't my best work. XD**

As I step up onto the railing, the birght sunlight blinds me. I'm surprised by it, really. Any amount of sun is unusual in London for this time of year.

People walk passed, brushing behind me. Some stare, they must do. There is a man in a t-shirt standing on a railing of a bridge staring down at the river in the mid-October, after all. I must be a sight, with the tattoos and scars, my hair greasy and tangled, my eyes tired and wary. There is nothing left for me here. My father abused me. My mother neglected me. My sister is dead. Nobody cares. Nobody cares about me. I hate it here. I hate it.

My hands tighten on the railing, preparing for the extra strength it will take to swing my legs over. However, but my foot has even left the ground, someone stopped next to me. I freeze. My breathing stops momentarily, until the figure speaks.

"Hey," They say. A man. An American man. I can't tell from where though. "It's a lovely day isn't it? Quite unusual, actually, to have sun around this time, or so I've been told. I've only lived here for the past couple of months, and I'd never been here before that. It's still cold though... Well, I guess it's always pretty cold."

What is this man doing? Can't he see I'm a hopeless cause? Can't he see that there's no point in talking to me? But there's something comforting about his voice, and the fact he has noticed me. Maybe he is trying to help me. But why?

"You seem way too tanned to live around here, well, unless you've been on holiday recently. Where are you from?" He asks, and he sounds genuinely interested. Is it possible that this man actually _cares_? His tone, and the fact he is actually talking to me, makes me feel like I'm going to cry, so I take deep breath before I try to talk.

"Texas," I reply quietly, still not looking at him.

"Texas?" He asks, sounding, not quite surprised, but... interested, still. I don't understand. "I've never been there. I'm from Chicago, myself, but my wife is British, and the man who adopted me when I was younger is from around here, even though his wife is from Ohio. My adopted siblings are also all American, but from different places. My brother, Emmett, is from Tennessee, but his wife, Rosalie, probably one of the bitchiest girls I have ever met is from New York. My sister is from Mississippi, and my wife was born in Birmingham, which is a few hours form here. We lived in Washington for a while, its where we met, in fact... and our daughter was born there but Bella wants her to grow up near her maternal grandparents. Which works out fine 'cause my adoptive parents are moving back down here once they retire anyway. Is it nice in Texas?"

Again, with the questions. Why does this man care?

But still, it's nice that someone is talking to me. It's nice that they're from the same country as me. It's nice that they're willingly sharing their background with me, a stranger. It's nice that they're not lying, or trying to humour me, but just openly admit that they haven't been somewhere, and that they don't know much about this city. I take another deep breath.

"It's alright," I mutter, not wanting to say much more. I want him to keep talking. I want to know about him, as selfish aa it may sound.

The man laughs suddenly, yet quietly. "I probably have one of the weirdest yet kindest fathers ever. When my parents died I was sick too, with the same thing, in fact. Viral Pnuemonia, not one of the best things ever, especially because we waited so long to get it treated. My mother was adamant it was the flu, and then one day my father collapsed and he died a few hours afterwards. My mom died too, and I was an orphan. But then, my doctor, who was about mid-twenties at the time, saw this spoiled, rich kid who played the piano and went to a private school and was dreaming of joining the army, and decided to adopt him. He wasn't even with the woman who is now my mother at the time. They'd dated briefly when they were sixteen, but they didn't meet again until one or two years after I was adopted. She's one of the nicest people I've ever met. Very loving. She's the best mother in the world. It's an awful thing, what happened to her before she married my dad."

He stops talking after that, and I feel as though what happened to the woman who adopted him is something he is unwilling to go into. Perhaps it isn't his story to tell, or perhaps he doesn't want to upset me. Perhaps she tried to kill herself. Perhaps she was abused. Either way, I can tell he adores her.

"What's your name?" He asks suddenly, without offering his own. I freeze. Do I really want him to know this? I decide I do. I want him to keep talking. He is comforting. He cares.

"Jasper," I say, louder than the other times I have replied.

"And how has your week been Jasper? I'm sorry I've been going on about myself," The man says next, not saying his name. He actually sounds like he wants to know, too.

"It's been shit," I answer almost immediately, my voice trembling. "My life is shit."

The man just sighs. "Well, if your week had been great you wouldn't be standing on the edge of a bridge, would you?" I smile slightly. "Surely there's something good about your life?"

I shake my head. "No. There's nothing good."

I expect him to come out with some bullshit about how it will get better, and how he knows how I feel. But he surprises me. "Well," He says in a slightly cheerier tone. "What do I know? I was adopted by the best the best people in the world just after I was orphaned and apart from my sister-in-law I have a pretty amazing family." He pauses, and then sighs again, but it sounds lighter than before. He takes a notebook out of his pocket, and writes something down with the pen attached. "Here," He says, and finally I turn to him. He's relatively good looking, with green eyes and copper hair. He's about my age, and he's holding a piece of paper in his outstretched hand. "My sister's phone number. She's a therapist, but if you don't want to talk to a therapist, then just talk to my sister as my sister. She's insane, and loving and I guarantee she will put a smile on your face. She's currently in London hoping a guy with an accent will come and sweep her off her feet. Now, you may not be British, but you still have an accent and I know for a fact she has a thing for blondes and tattoos. Please, take it."

I just step down from the rail, staring at him in shock. He is seriously trying to help me. He is actually trying to make me happy. After a moment I take the paper from him. "Why are helping me?" I finally ask, filled with a strange sense of relief. My life isn't going to end today, I know. I can't do this now that this man has tried so hard to help me, even though all he's done is talk to me about himself.

But he cares. He cares what I think and where I'm from and what my name is. He's genuinely interested in my life and how I am and he's basically setting me up with his sister. "Everybody deserves love, Jasper. Now, what are you plans for today?"

"I'm gonna go down to the shops and get some food, and then I'm gonna go home and call your sister," I say, and it sounds weird, but the man grins, a bright, dazzling grin. I can't help but smile back.

"Have a nice day, Jasper," He says, still smiling. "I hope we see each other again."

And then he walks away, leaving me standing on a bridge in a t-shirt in mid-October in a country neither of us were born in, covered in scars and tattoos, my hair greasy and tangled and my eyes hopeful, and for the first time in a very long time, ever so slightly happy. Because, even though I don't know their name, and I am already forgetting exactly what they look like, they have just saved my life.

And just because they care.


	2. Chapter 2

**Epilogue Type Thing**

"So, this is weird." Is how Edward begins his speech, and Alice grips my hand tightly, her eyes wide. I cringe.

To be fair, Bella, Alice and Alice's mother Esme did all warn me _not_ to make Edward my best man. They all said that even after he found Bella and got over his loneliness, he still gets unbelievably drunk at weddings. But if it weren't for him I wouldn't be here right now... Plus he's practically my only friend. Alice and I decided to get married in London, where we met and my life seemed to finally begin, all thanks to this insanely drunk man who is about to make a speech.

Help me.

"About seven, six weeks ago," Edward hiccups slightly.

"Two years ago," Alice quickly corrects, smiling slightly.

Edward continues as if he was never interrupted. "I found this guy on a bridge, and I gave him my sister's number. And I thought: 'there's no way they'll get together, or stay together if they do. She won't like him that much... And now they're getting married." He turns to me and glares slightly. "Thanks," He says disdainfully, and the rest of the guests strain to keep their laughs in. "Jasper's alright," He mutters after a moment, and a collective chuckle runs across the crowd. I look over and see even Rosalie is laughing. Edward quickly downs what's left of his champagne. "Merry Christmas!" He calls, holding up his glass, while everybody else laughs, holds up their glasses and repeats his greeting, even though it's the middle of June (tomorrow is Edward's birthday, even). Carlisle and Esme are also laughing at their son.

Bella finally manages to get Edward to sit back down, and as he completely misses his chair and falls with a surprised "Oh my God Bella what did you do to me?!" everyone breaks into loud laughter. Even Alice has tears running down her face. Praise the Lord for waterproof mascara. Edward's daughter Nessie hides her face in her hands in embarrasment, but after a moment her shoulders begin shaking in silent laughter.

Finally, Edward is in his seat, but he looks half asleep. His head is nodding slightly, but his eyes are wide open. "Is he high?" Emmett whispers on Alice's other side.

"Jazz!" Edward, who is sitting next to me, says very _very_ loudly in my ear, a hand landing suddenly on my shoulder. "How are you and Alice doing?"

"We're married Edward," I tell him with a grin, removing his hand from my shoulder. His mouth drops open in shock, and I laugh.

For a few moments he just stares at me, until a waiter walks by and he asks for another glass of wine. "Coffee and water," I mouth to the waiter just before he leaves, and he leaves nods and grins in understanding.

When I turn back to Edward I see that is talking Bella, and when I look to my other side for Alice I find her seat empty. A quick glance at the rest of the room shows she's on the dance floor, effortlessly being led around by Emmett. Emmett's a nice man, and a great brother. We speak a lot, but I've never got along with him how I get along with Edward. Rosalie has something to do with it; she's never liked me very much.

I grin as I hear Alice's laugh, and turn back to Edward. I jump as this time he is facing me, and he is ridiculously close. "Jesus Edward!" I breathe. "Don't do that!"

"Bella says I'm drunk," He tells me in reply. I shake my head incredulously at him.

"Really?" I ask, although I'm sure he's far too drunk to understand sarcasm now. "How strange." He nods, agreeing with me, and I roll my eyes.

The waiter comes back with a mug of coffee and a glass of water. Deciding Edward doesn't need caffeine at this moment, I quickly drink the coffee and get him to drink the water by telling him it's vodka. "Doesn't taste like vodka," He slurs.

"Weird," I comment, helping him up to take him to his hotel room. He, Bella and Nessie are staying in a hotel down the road from the hall we are holding the reception in. "Bella," I call my sister in law's name, and she rushes over, grinning but still looking concerned for her husband. "I'm gonna take Edward to your hotel. Can I have the key?"

She nods, and hands me the small card. I pocket it quickly, and watch as she kisses her husband's cheek and dancing away. I then take Edward towards the exit, and once we're outside I let him walk on his own, but he stumbles a lot. It's actually quite funny. Once we get to the hotel room, I help him into bed and pull the covers over him. He looks up at me tiredly. "Thanks Jazz," He says, although I'm not sure he knows what he's thanking me for.

"No problem," I grin. "It's the least I could do after you saved my life, and gave me a life, after all."

"What did I do?" He asks, and I chuckle, shaking my head.

"You'll remember in the morning, you wierdo. Happy birthday," I tell him. He smiles slightly, his eyes drifting closed.

"Happy birthday," He repeats as I head for the door, and I roll my eyes, shutting the door softly behind me.

**A/N: I know this isn't how drunk people usually act... Or maybe they do. I'm inexperienced in this field. XD **

**And I know... I updated a one shot. _Again_. I need to learn to control my ideas. XD I hope you enjoyed. **


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